Softest Touch
by Gatekat
Summary: Bayverse. Jazz/Prowl. Sticky. Since coming to Earth, Prowl has had more difficulties adjusting to Jazz's recovery than anyone expected, including Prowl himself. Could be taken as a prolog to 'Walking with Glass' if you want to.


_Fandom_: Transformers Bayverse  
_Pairing_: Jazz/Prowl  
_Rating_: NC-17 for Mech/Mech  
_Summary_: Bayverse. Jazz/Prowl. Sticky. Since coming to Earth, Prowl has had more difficulties adjusting to Jazz's recovery than anyone expected, including Prowl himself. Could be taken as a prolog to 'Walking with Glass' if you want to.

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**The Softest Touch**

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He knew he was being unreasonable, paranoid, possessive and completely illogical. Knew it and couldn't make himself care, much less change. He'd screamed into the emptiness of space when he felt the bond with Jazz snap and came terrifyingly close to changing his trajectory into the nearest star in the blinding pain and madness that immediately followed. Somehow Bluestreak and Smokescreen had gotten him past that stage and kept him targeted on Earth, and he was still barely cognizant of his surroundings when they landed a metacycle later.

Something had tackled him as he came out to greet Prime and those waiting for them. As he looked up into a blue visor what little thought he'd managed to put in order fled with the touch of a silver chassis and three-clawed hands that knew him better than he knew himself. He barely remembered what happened, though he knew Jazz had used everything he knew to arouse him and open his interface panel, had ridden him nearly into stasis ... but it was during the spark merge that his processors finally begun to function again.

Under any other conditions, it would have been the worst kind of rape known to Cybertronians. As it stood, it was literally what the doctor ordered. They both desperately needed the bond renewed and pleasantries weren't high on the list of concerns. Not with a couple as dedicated as they had been, even before bonding.

His first cognizant thought on Earth was much, much later when he found himself looking up at a bright blue sky and wondering why he was on his back, where the others were, where he was ... and then nothing mattered when a bright blue visor and grinning silver face come into view.

Prowl shivered at the memories and struggled to focus on his work again. That had been over four local stellar cycles, not quite a metacycle, and he still couldn't stand to have Jazz out of his sight without constantly checking on the mech through their bond. He knew Jazz found it ... endearing was the word he'd used ... but _he_ found it distracting and a bit distressing after so long.

He could forgive himself for the first few decaorn. It _was_ a serious trauma after all. Some level of fear and hyper vigilance was to be expected, even with logic processors as advanced as his.

But now ... now he was just being unreasonable.

"Prowler," his mate's low croon nearly made him jump out of his chair. How the Pit had ... oh yes, this was Jazz he was thinking of, and he heard as much as felt his mate's laughter at his thoughts.

"My designation is Prowl," he responded by rote.

"You're moodier than usual today," Jazz said softly as he stepped closer and placed a light palm on the top edge of Prowl's left sensor-wing before closing his claws gently. "Still hasn't sunk in that I'm really back and really here to stay?" he asked gently, not a hint of judgment in his voice or across their wide-open bond.

"No," Prowl sighed with only a tiny hint of the frustration he felt. "It is degrading my performance."

Not that he expected Jazz to be able to do anything about it, but it did feel good to voice his frustrations to someone who wouldn't be overly concerned by it. He tried very hard not to linger on that fact, least his battle computer locked up over the illogical reality of it. Even though he knew he should have expected it, Jazz wasn't making any effort to hide his intentions and it was a very Jazz thing to do, Prowl twitched in surprise when he felt the touch on his sensor-wings shift from comforting to arousing.

"J-Jazz," he bit back a moan and sent a command to his office door to lock fully. No one short of Prime or Ratchet could get in without hacking it.

"Ya know it'll make ya feel better," Jazz's voice dropped to a low, seductive whisper as his claws manipulated the sensor rich extensions from Prowl's back. "Ya know I love it."

"I'm on duty," he objected despite the way his body was already trembling and his spark reached out for it's other half in raw, need-filled desire. How pathetic was he to react with such complete lack of self-control?

"You'll work better afterwards and you are not pathetic," Jazz's voice became as sharp as it ever did towards his mate. ~You are the finest battlefield tactician Cybertron has ever produced. What's more, you are _my_ bonded,~ Jazz's mind seethed with a protective rage Prowl was rarely witness to. ~_No one_ says that about my other half.~

Prowl stilled, optics widening slightly in shock at the purity of the _protect-rage-mine_ flowing from his bonded.

~I'm sorry,~ he sent the honest sensation more than the words across the bond and felt the rage dissipate as quickly as it had formed.

~Apology accepted,~ Jazz smiled and tipped Prowl's face up to press their mouths together tenderly.

"What was that?" Prowl had to ask when Jazz let him go. It hadn't felt bad, it _was_ Jazz touching him, just ... strange.

"Humans call it a kiss," Jazz chuckled as he worked Prowl's sensor-wings, one hand on each and his mouth nibbling on the cables and lines in the back of his larger mate's neck. "It's a very sexy thing, a claim."

"Mmm, so you just staked a claim on me?" Prowl tried to continue the conversation despite how much of his processor power was being sidetracked by Jazz's too-talented hands and mouth and the way his sensor-wings trembled uncontrollably.

"In every way I can imagine," Jazz purred against the side of his throat as he pressed against Prowl's back and worked his hands down the larger mech's sides. "In every place I can find." With a motion that Prowl couldn't work out no matter how many times it was used on him, Jazz had him out of his chair and pressed chest-down on his desk. He spread his legs of his own accord with a reverberating moan when the pressure of his bonded was against his back again. "I'd 'face ya senseless and spark-merge with ya in the rec room and on international TV if ya'd let me."

Even though he'd never permit it, the very idea that Jazz was willing to go to such lengths to demonstrate their claim on each other dragged another moan from the tactician.

"It makes ya hot, doesn't it, knowin' I want the whole universe to _see_ what ya mean ta me," Jazz growled against Prowl's right sensor wing before dipping his glossa into the seam where it met his back.

Prowl let the last of his upper-level processes go and gripped the edge of the desk near his hips. His fans were already near maximum and the plating above his spark and between his legs nearly hot enough to burn. All he could do was hold on, moan and trust his mate to give him what he could no longer articulate.

"Ya have any idea what ya do ta me, when ya'r like this?" Jazz tried not to groan as he pulled a pair of play cuffs from subspace and locked Prowl's hands behind his back. "I came back for _you_," he continued as he planted kisses along Prowl's sensor-wings, down his back, on each of his twitching fingertips, along the inside of his thighs. "I'll always come back for ya. _Always_."

With a swirl of Jazz's glossa, Prowl's second interface panel slid open with a needy moan from above. Jazz took a moment to drink in a sight he'd never tire of. Prowl's valve, the interface port only he had ever touched with Prowl's consent. It was heady, knowing that his bonded had chosen to save something for only one mech, and that _he_ was that one mech. He'd had no such gift to offer in return between his own nature and his missions. It hadn't bothered Prowl in the least and Jazz loved him all the more for it.

With a sharp rev of his engine, Jazz used his fingers to stimulate the sensor nodes around the rim of the valve while his glossa delved inside to test his lover's readiness. One hand slipped down between his own legs to rub against his upper interface panel without opening it. Teasing the spike behind it that so desperately wanted out, wanted to sink into the slick valve his glossa was in, wanted to be what caused those delicious mewing cries of desperate pleasure from the white bot above him.

"I want ya so bad, Prowl," Jazz moaned into the valve, his glossa flicking to light up the sensor nodes inside. "Ah came back just for ya, babe." ~Ah'll do anythin' it takes ta make ya believe that in ya spark. Ah'll _never_ leave ya. Never.~

The powerful body above him trembled, inarticulate and incoherent but for a single thought, a single need.

~Please....~ Prowl managed, unable to organize anything more with the pleasure and presence that smothered all his fears and pain right there.

~Anytime, anywhere, anywhy,~ Jazz whispered back across their bond and clicked his panels open. His spike slid from it's housing, thick and hard with energon and alight with the crackle of energy from tip to base from being denied too long already. With little more preamble he stood and slid into the oh-so-familiar valve with a shuddering moan and hitched intakes.

Prowl screamed as his valve clenched tight around his mate, the energy licking up from the spike turning on every single sensor in his valve to full in that first thrust.

~Everything I am is yours Prowl, ta use 'r claim any way ya wish, any time ya wish, anywhere ya wish. I need ya more than energon, babe,~ he continued, rambling more than speaking as he pressed against his lover's back. His four-clawed hands dug into sensitive seams on sensor-wings as his hips made a slow rotating circle to drive their pleasure to overload as slowly as he could stand.

Each time Jazz seated fully into his lover's valve the connection between their systems flared to life, only to be broken when he pulled back.

"Jazz!" Prowl's vocalizer was more static than sounds in the desperate cry his spark carried clearly to his other half.

~Always,~ Jazz moaned, trembling as he thrust deep and hard a handful of times before pressing the tip of his spike into the top of Prowl's valve and holding there as the connection synched their systems almost instantly and Prowl's body locked him in place.

Data raced between them, pushing the physical pleasure far higher as pulses of energy replaced the slide of sensitive metal. Unwilling to do anything less, Jazz dropped all his firewalls, offering himself -- and every secret, every immoral and illegal act he'd ever committed -- up to his bonded. He was barely aware that Prowl's had gone down long before, but he reveled in the unrestricted flow of information between them. Even before the spark merge that would come, the line between their memories, between their processors and who had done what blurred and melted away.

Jazz offered his trust; giving his rule-abiding, logical mate knowledge of everything he did.

Prowl offered acceptance; to know every law his mate broke without it sickening him.

~Somewhere ... two bodies, one spark ... we make this work.~


End file.
